Chapter One
Time no longer passes. The sun is kept from me, its light casting in a different direction– my prison cell is nearly halfway to hell…all I know is night. Not a crack, or crevice, for its rays to peek through—only darkness. And blood-red eyes reflected at me.
A trickling of water keeps track of the seconds I’ve spent down here, dirt turning to mud below my feet. It’s been a while…too long. Puddles form, connect and grow as days and weeks pass.
The gravel beneath my tired toes is sharp against my senses, or what little of them I have left, suspending me in agony as the ground disintegrates beneath me. The putrid scent of the rot no longer touches my gut, the damp earth is no longer cold, and the stench of mildew is vacant. I’ve been here too long, the scent of home long forgotten in my nose—
“Minnie— how lovely that you’ve woken. And just before the others— what a treat.” The words slur together, coming from everywhere at once– it echoes, raising each hair along the back of my neck.
I can’t even pick my head up to look at the man approaching, his boots scattering the water in splashes as he trucks towards me. A fog of rich leathered hide and the kind of sandalwood that makes you want to gag, so strong that I nearly heave, wafts heavily as he trudges on through the muddied earth of the basement floor.
Damon has woken.
A whoosh of cold air tickles my face as my hair attempts to flee for me— but I have nothing left– I haven’t, not for a long time. Hanging here, my bare feet slipping slowly towards him, his inhale pierces my ears. It’s as if I’m his favorite dessert, a shit and piss-covered hunk of flesh that hasn’t showered for—
A tongue swipes at my heightened cheekbone and I flinch away from him— from Damon.
They’re taking too much— all of them. Taking turns draining me to unconsciousness from one second to the next— it’s been weeks…months— I’m no longer sure.
My head…So fuzzy…So tired…Just the slow drip of water holds me in time, acting as a clock, as it ticks away minutes of my life…I don’t have mu–
A small pinch, a cold sharp dagger– no…fingernail…slides into my skin at the nape of my neck and sends my eyelashes into a wicked flutter, my heart too weak for the adrenaline it’s calling for… My brain is shifting around my insides, crawling from the pain, from another feeding– it’s begging to be set free as a warm drop leaks out from the fresh wound.
I need to sleep, my body sags as my outstretched arms slip, and the skin around my sticky wrists drives a flash of pain along my almost dead nerve endings— I try to make a noise— to whine— whimper— anything— they’re taking too much—
The cold, wet tongue, lapping at the drops, shakes me again— the quiver down my spine making him giggle.
Damon never feeds directly from the fang— he prefers the sweet, salty taste of my fear as my life is let free from my veins. No numbing of his venom, no ignorant bliss as he drinks deeply.
He purrs, the vibration traveling through the air tickles my eardrum, and the chains clang off the rotting concrete wall as I lean away from him— from Damon. My owner, my captor…my master. At least one of them—
“You’re becoming so lifeless, my dear— where’s that fight? Spent it all last month on your little adventure?”
Last month… It’s already been a month since I last tried to escape? So, that marks two months since I’ve been held captive with this nest. They bought me at—
Another swipe of his tongue, at the base of my throat, finally pulls a strangled sound from the depths of my being—
“There she is,” he chuckles, and his thumb is placed on my eyelid, wrenching it open. When I finally focus, the twin rubies staring me down are at eye level with me and I twitch hard, squeezing my lids shut once again as I hunker down, against the cuffs— fighting the pain, the disgust— the fear.
Damon’s chuckle grows maniacal, showing the demon he is inside— the darkness— how it aims to terrify, to cause pain and suffering. His true nature, the twisted thing he was even before he was reborn into the vampire creature he is. His nose is receding into his face— his feeds from fellow vampires are evident. Damon’s becoming one of them, they all are. The Forsaken. Before long, he, and the rest of my captors will be more monstrous than even this, straight from the worst of nightmares– like demons, they’d lack even more humanity, falling victim to the core of their existence, bloodsucking leeches. Murderers. Monsters. But they can’t afford to kill me off just yet— live victims are hard to come by, and they argue about it constantly.
My stomach drops as I ponder it– death– it hates the idea, but before long, I won’t have anything left to give, and it won’t be my choice. My heart will give out, it shouldn’t be much longer now. A day, maybe two–
“Forgive me—“ he pants as he stabs deep into my thigh with a sharpened fingernail, and I moan out into the darkness. Nearly to the bone, he digs— my eyes fling wide open and catch his twisted smirk, how it drives what little cheek he has left up his face. He’s starving. The red irises hypnotize me in the depths of fear— “That’s my girl.”
He twists, and my vocal cords respond by crying out in agony as the white lightning reaches my heart and it begins beating violently, the wound in my neck pulsating as it drips steady streams of my blood down my throat, freshening the stains.
“Jus-t k-kill me al-alreadyyyy,” I cry, as what little fight I have left abandons me.
“Such a sound! A melody! And all for me.” He follows by falling to his knees, the blond tendrils of his hair a blur before me— the shredded t-shirt I’ve been living in barely covers my torso— my legs fully exposed— and I know what comes next.
My knees buckle, trying to escape his glowing red eyes, and the force of my weight clanks the cold iron taught— my hitched breathing the only crying I can muster— my eyes no longer run. I’m dying, begging in the only way I can.
“There, there, pretty girl,” his hand brushes lightly against my shin, the frigid cold of his dead skin against mine is a shock to my system, “no need to tremble just yet, this part is not for you.”
My stomach heaves— as if any of this is for me—
Damon’s claw finds bone again, and I wail— my cries bouncing off of the decrepit concrete walls, deafening myself to everything but my loud lungs, as his wet tongue climbs my inner thigh. His lips smiling as he presses his face into the fresh gouge, nuzzling into it as I pathetically fight the chains that keep me almost suspended—
“Fucking fear, baby girl— there it is—“ he moans loudly into my leg in between his shallow teases.
I’m going to die. I want to die. Desperat—
“You taste divine.”
No— something screams at me from a corner of my brain. I can’t let go— no matter how badly I want to— there’s something that won’t let m-me–
“One more, princess, just one more, you’re doing so good for me,” he groans, and then again, his jagged nail is shoved deep into my leg, nearly on top of the first two jabs. Crimson copper fills my nose as I choke out near-silent cries— it’s too much— the edges of my vision flash stark white, television static encroaching on my sight, my mind sent flying across the room, and as if it’s not enough, he twists again, and I’m sent back into complete darkness— my psyche fleeing for the depths of my subconscious, and sound reverberating into nothing as I fall limp against the chains pinning me to the wall.
I don’t have much time—
They’re…t-tak-...t-too…too mu–
“DAMON! What the fuck!”
It’s a whisper, far away– a thousand miles or more– as my spirit floats away on the breeze… Her shrill is a rusted hook stabbed through my soul, keeping me tied to my body– maybe if I yank…
“Are you fucking stupid?! We need her!!!”
They do. It’s true. Otherwise, they’ll get desperate enough to feed off of each other even more until they’re twisted haunting creatures that kill and maim without cause…until humans as a species are completely wiped off the face of the earth. Then, they’d really starve. Hmm…
“Get UP! Go– get out of here– before Raul sees–”
Vampires, as a whole, are the death of humanity. Of civilization. Of everything. This world will burn. The day Vlad Dracula took over, The Great Mutiny, as the vamps call it, the scales shifted– sending the planet in a tailspin as the streets ran with blood. Also known as, The Great Massacre. Then, came–
“I swear to fuck, Damon, you’re going to be the death of us!”
The Blood Farms– they call them Vitae Vineyards. Those facilities were instituted very quickly after a troubled crowd of vamps knocked out at least half of the entire population of humans. Then, there was the–
“What the hell is going on down here?”
There was The Great Epidemic–
“Nothing, nothing– I’m handling it–”
Half of the half of us that were left were wiped out within a month of the first scramble over the flu that spread like wildfire. It was their own fault. Most vamps don’t care about living conditions, forgetting what it was like to be human– they left us with barely enough to survive, draining us constantly until–
“What did Damon do?” Harsh boot steps stomp down the stairs– Raul joining the duo as my hearing creeps me back to reality and back into my sagging, tortured body. My nerves are lit up, sharp daggers of the twisting fingers still scraping and picking at my bones…
“I said I’m handling it,” Camilla calls to Raul as the icy fingers of her dead hand observe the skin on my thigh.
“Sure fucking looks like it!” Raul seethes, his tone shifting as he most likely takes in the scene.
“Her heart still beats,” Camilla smarts back at him.
“Give her some of your blood, ’Milla.”
She hisses– piercing my eardrum as I flinch away instinctively, the clank of chains harsh in the humid, dreary basement–
“Just enough to heal her, she’s dying and we don’t have enough to get us another.”
“She is undeserving, Master!”
A rush of air steals the breath from my lungs–
“I will decide who is undeserving, child.” Raul’s teeth are clamped together– the grind setting my nerves on edge as the huff of his words shakes me to my core. He’s inches from my face, pushing Camilla into my tiny, emaciated frame— I want to become part of the wall, to shrink down small enough to hide in the cracks, to burrow through the mortar and dig myself out of here, cracked and missing fingernails and all—
“I-I–” Camilla tries.
“I-I– what?!” I flinch as she cowers farther into my body, away from Raul’s assault.
“I just–”
“I just, what, Camilla? You think you know better than me?! Your SIRE?!” The frigid temperature of her body raises goosebumps, my body torn and frantic, wondering why I’m not trying to get away from it— but I can’t.
His rage tastes like copper mixed with sulfur, trash, and burnt food– his magic sneaking into the room as his dominance is put on display, all of us sinking lower– but I’m stuck– stuck to the wall by the iron chains– unable to cower away from the bodies in front of me—
“No– no, of course not, Sire– I only–”
Wrenching, ripping, slick sounds fill the room as Camilla cries out, her exhale and sprays of blood coating me as I dare to peek through my eyelashes– they’re sticky, and everything is tinged red, but latched onto the side of her pale throat, is Raul. He’s drinking from her deeply as the horror on her face splits into hypnotizing comfort as his venom works its way through her system. Perilous to it, she’s high above the sky. I’m almost jealous— I long to feel numb again, for the sensation of floating along the clouds to take over, for the dread, the hatred…the doom to leave me entirely– to drift along the river of bliss, to feel the life leave my veins, to feel something, anything, but pain.
“If you get to have her,” Damon pipes up, “can’t I have a bit more of Minnie?”
A growl let loose from Raul’s throat is his answer– he’s still lapping at the blood trailing along Camilla’s neck.
Damon huffs, and takes his leave, the weathered wooden stairs creaking under his weight. I hear the door knob turn before it slams– freezing us all in place as Damon comes flying back down the stairs— tumbling harshly, before his arms and legs finally land underneath him, catching himself at the base. He rears back his lips to show off his elongated fangs– his features tight and nearly translucent, the light from behind the door casts his twisted appearance in an ethereal glow, the monster that he’s becoming is so close to the surface, he’s much worse than I thought–
“By order of The Council, you’re all under arrest!” Booms a deep voice from the top of the stairs. My eyes open wider, catching dust from the commotion as Raul and Camilla turn on the intruder with their fangs bared. The hissing of all three of them fills the room as four vampires just appear in front of us. Their magic is crisp and effortless– they aren’t starving, not like my captors…
“GET DOWN,” shouts the vampire on the right, he’s decked out in a black combat outfit with dark lensed shades hiding his eyes, and I fall in my chains. My knees don’t reach the floor, and my wrists cry out in agony as my outstretched arms fight the confines of my joints– Raul and Camilla don’t move, instead, they continue like feral cats in disobedience.
Another blur shifts my focus and in half a second Camilla’s body is missing its head as her curls of auburn fall to the floor in a heap of tangles– rolling along the rocky ground. Enforcer Four flicks his arm and wrist, sending Camilla’s black blood against the wall.
Damon leaps toward Camilla’s killer, but he’s ready for it and turns to grip Damon by the neck, holding him suspended by the throat as claws fight to find flesh and tear at the big burly man–
Camilla’s body finally falls beside Raul, but he’s transfixed on the enforcer in the center– no, not enforcer, the man in the middle is dressed to the nines. His dark suit is clean, and his jacket is long– a ruby-red rose clipped to his chest tells me exactly who he is. This man is employed by Vlad Dracula himself. Only council members don the red rose of Dracula’s court– he’s royalty.
Clenching my thighs together, my bare skin quivering as my hair again rises– I can’t blink, can’t look away from him– and he’s staring right past Raul– past Camilla’s corpse– right at me… The glint in his eye dazzles me, almost like familiarity.
I attempt to swallow sandpaper, my throat rubbed raw, as his red gaze pins me still. His gloved hand pushes his circular-framed, red-tinted glasses up his face.
Mina Harold? He speaks into my mind– a southern draw accentuates the vowels in my name, tickling my brain as it floats around my mind.
I just stare— in wonder— how he knows my name, why it feels important…bad…dangerous…
“It’s her, kill the rest.” The royal speaks out loud to his lackeys and in seconds Raul and Damon’s screams break way into the night.
Rest, child, he speaks to only me again, drowning out the visceral sounds of the vampires that have held me captive being torn apart before me–
I know it’s there, that it’s happening, but still, I cannot take my eyes off the telepath. His rose glasses magnify the glint in his pupils, the smirk again fixed on his face as he whispers to me. Welcome home, Mina.
Home…home is a small town in Pennsylvania. Scranton. But I very much doubted that’s what he meant. Scranton burned down the night of The Great Mutiny.
The facility that originally took me in also burned down. New York City. A Blood Den.
Next was the home of a rather tired and ancient vampire that only required blood every other night or so– he died. His staff sold me off the day of, auctioning me to Vitae Vineyards. I thought it was bad, to be treated like cattle, forced fed and drained daily of whatever blood my body could make in a day.
Then, a hazy list of private homes, until I pissed off enough vampires that no one wanted me. I used to have a smart mouth. By the fourth blood den, I lost the urge to fight back— it made the feedings go faster. After all, it is inevitable. They will always win.
No, he meant somewhere new, surely– he couldn’t mean somewhere I’d already been, because none of those places existed anymore. Maybe he’s taking me back to the vineyards. But then, why all this trouble? As far as I know, my recent captors weren’t breaking any vampire laws. Sure, they were disgusting, a disgrace– cannibalizing one another on the days I was too weak to drain– but it wasn’t illegal to feed on each other…right?
Correct, my dear– spoke the voice in my head, like a caress, slicking down the walls of my mental barriers– he’s reading my thoughts. I’m taking you to my home.
My stomach drops to the depths of my being– another owner, another master…another set of fangs to drain me…
His soft chuckles, like a whisper, tease at the dread pooling inside— his mental fingers flipping through the troves of my mind as he tries to distract my consciousness. I feel it all. His grubby hands pull at my memories like a filthy intruder, a leech, sucking out all the harsh truths, all the dignity I’d lost– the torture, the pain, the fear– god, the salty taste of my fear…
Hush, hush, he coddles as the slither recedes, his fingers done fiddling with the things that make me me.
“Take her back to the penthouse,” the man directs to the other three in the room, his eyes still pinning mine in place. I can’t move, I can’t speak– this man has stolen something from me, something important, it’s missing along the files of my memory. Something he was looking for, and he found it– but I can’t remember what it is, what’s missing– what he stole— there’s too much there, not only in my sketchy past but since the takeover, I can’t see what’s not there—
The man winks at me and heavy hands rip the chains from the wall, crumbled stone falling pitifully to the ground around me before one of the enforcers throws me over his shoulder. I can’t look away from the royal that spoke into my mind, he won’t let me, my head tilts to hold onto his stare…I can’t look away… Not as the vampire carrying me steps over Raul and Camilla’s crumpled bodies, not as he kicks pieces of Damon to the side, not even as the enforcer begins his trek up the stairs.
Together, we’ll bring him to his knees, little one.
The undertone of malice, hate, and an odd sense of something long forgotten to me…almost like longing, plagues my psyche. Who and what he means sends waves of nausea over me and my beating heart nearly echoes off the stone walls…
And then, nothing. A blank slate as I’m forced to sleep with the flick of a switch– the rotten ashes of magic coat my tongue as I’m sent into my subconscious at last.
